IS THAT A DEMOCRAT WITH YOUR EGG ROLL?

That's what 413 Democratic National Commmittee members demanded of their freshly minted presidential prospects Friday and Saturday as the party leadership held its last meeting until the party convention next July.

When the sudden immersion into presidential politics was over, there was no clear front-runner and nothing to greatly buoy a party facing an unusually popular president.

Committee members will be delegates to the July convention, so this meeting became not just a campaign kickoff, but the year's first political feast.

Literally.

"This is first class," said Martin Shaffer, a West Virginia delegate, as he sampled Arkansas Gov. Bill Clinton's seafood and chicken fingers and kiwi tarts in a cavernous but well-appointed ballroom.

He was less impressed when Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin was late to his affair and former Massachusetts Sen. Paul E. Tsongas could muster only egg rolls and a smaller room.

The quality of one's reception was one barometer of a candidate's mettle. Another was how they present their message.

William J. O'Brien, a national committee member from West Hartford, sent letters to other key party leaders before he came here, asking them what issues to raise. He and the rest of the committee then spent Saturday listening to seven prospective candidates make their pitches.

The meeting was important not just as an introduction to candidates, but as part of a party healing process. Democrats have been maligned in the national media all year, first for providing early opposition to the Persian Gulf war effort, then because many of its big-name candidates opted not to make the 1992 race.

"I've been a little disappointed with some of the whining in our ranks," he told the party's executive committee.

The nuts and bolts of party work, usually the chief focus of these sessions, was not the main event here. The delegates came to Los Angeles to see the stars, and almost from the moment they entered the Biltmore Hotel, the candidates were waiting.

The first big meeting was scheduled for 9 a.m. Friday, and as that hour neared, Tsongas, looking like a dour college professor on the first day of class, stood outside the door quietly offering handshakes and hellos.

Suddenly, there was a flash of TV lights as Clinton, a world-class schmoozer, arrived. The tall, graying governor, whose boyish face seems frozen in a big smile, hugged old and new friends and bantered with reporters.

He went into the room and spoke to the state chairmen, telling them he is a fifth-generation Arkansan and Democrat by "heritage, instinct and conviction." He finished, and the chairmen's business continued. But few were paying attention because Clinton was holding court in the back of the room, detailing his views on health care for the 35 reporters, five TV cameras and seven microcassettes within inches of his mouth.

Finally he found an exit door that led to a kitchen and escaped.

Then came former California Gov. Jerry Brown, talking fast and pointedly about his visit to Mother Teresa, the need to change the Democratic Party, the fall of the Whig party and more.

"This party, like the Whig party, can disappear. At one time, the Whigs had the House and the Senate. Now they're not there anymore," he reminded everyone.

Some candidates stayed away from all this. Virginia Gov. L. Douglas Wilder, who in his declaration speech Sept. 13 criticized Democratic leaders for a runaway federal budget, and Nebraska Sen. Bob Kerrey, who plans to announce Sept. 30, did not come to the convention.

Harkin spent the day working at a rapid-transit construction site. He routinely has such "work days" to get a feel for common people.

Opinion was divided on what impressions were left by the day's politicking. Connecticut Chairman John F. Droney Jr. found the mood "curious," but still found the party ideologically divided.

"You just get talked at," said George Bruno, a New Hampshire committee member. "There's no sense of engagement. There's no debate." But there are parties.

West Virginia's Shaffer explained why he thought they are important. "If a staff can't throw together a good reception, they can't put together a good presidency," he said.

Mike Wetherell, Idaho party chairman, agreed. "I like to look at how organized these events are and who shows up," he said.

Shaffer looks for a number of clues, and all candidates passed his key tests: Was the food out as the guests arrived? It always was.

Does the candidates stay at the door, or move inside? He must move inside so more people can reach him.

Does he pay attention to details? Shaffer recalled when he soured on Missouri Rep. Richard A. Gephardt in 1988.

"His issue was doing something about foreign trade," he recalled. "But his staff brought in foreign wine and beer." Harkin's reception was clearly the worst. Many complained about the 10 p.m. starting time, and then the candidate was 20 minutes late because he was finishing dinner.

While Shaffer and others gave Harkin points for a fiery speech, they disliked waiting in the hot, crowded room. "He's showing no respect for committee members," Shaffer said.

On Saturday, the candidates came to the "Biltmore Bowl," a miniature indoor amphitheater more appropriate for a beauty pageant.

In a sense, Saturday was the talent competition. Each hopeful spoke for about 20 minutes. No one fell flat; most got enthuastic receptions.

Harkin got cheers when he pledged that if nominated, "You will not see hordes of young Iowans coming into your state telling you how to run your state." It was a reference to 1988 nominee Michael Dukakis, whose effort was run largely by Massachusetts colleagues.

Tsongas' pitch was more heartfelt, as he recalled his cancer and how it taught him "life is about purpose," not just politics.

Brown regaled the crowd by warning them about being corrupted by special interests, and Clinton got raves for stressing the need for a health care reform that costs less but makes better care more readily available.

The Rev. Jesse L. Jackson got the most tumultuous response, citing Connecticut's problems as a lesson for the country. He spoke of poverty in a wealthy state, how one road led to Yale and another to jail.

"In the nation's richest state, they're laying off teachers, yet they're building new jail cells," he said. "All across the nation we see these decadent and retarded values." The national committee members cheered, yet left in a somber, if more confident mood.

"There is optimism," said John Blair, Darien town vice chairman. "But two days from now, the optimism will be guarded.

"There's a lot of work to do, and George Bush is still awfully popular."